


Our Last Night

by PansexualMoose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PansexualMoose/pseuds/PansexualMoose
Summary: Nightmares of killing Rowena, a friend, confidant, and lover, plague Sam Winchester. Determined to have some time with her, Sam turns to the elements and his knowledge of magic to possibly land them one more night.(I suck at summaries)
Relationships: Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	Our Last Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> First of all, if you are even here reading this, ONE MILLION TIMES THANK YOU. I apparently wrote this back in AUGUST and just came scrolling across it in my GoogleDocs. I DO NOT own any of the characters mentioned in this story, nor do I own the song lyrics to "Last Night On Earth" by Green Day or "This Is the Night" by Clay Aiken. 
> 
> This work is unbeta'd and therefore all of the mistakes are my own. 
> 
> COMMENTS ARE GOLDEN. Like all you want and hell, even leave kudos. But COMMENTS KEEP ME ALIVE. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

* * *

_I_ _text a postcard, sent to you  
Did it go through? _

_Sending all my love to you._

_You are the moonlight of my life every night  
Giving all my love to you. _

It starts with nightmares. Thrashing, sweaty, scream-inducing nightmares. It doesn’t matter how much he drinks before he goes to bed, nor how many mindless hours of Netflix he attempts to binge, the nightmares still come...and he still can’t save her, because he is the one that killed her. He usually vomits immediately after the nightmares wake him, all of the alcohol coming back up, further proving that this is his reality and he has to live with what he did. What he _had_ to do. No matter how many times Dean has tried to coax him out of his stupor, Sam felt wholly broken. There wasn’t a single bone in his body, a single blood vessel, that didn’t ache with loss and grief. Because he was the one who had to force the blade between her ribs. He was the one who felt the warmth as the blood-splattered from her body across his knuckles. Sam was the one who watched the light, the light he worked so hard to see, leave her eyes. Sam had killed the third woman he ever truly loved in his entire life. But, that was something he couldn’t confess to his brother, Jack, or Castiel. Some things in this life were better left unsaid. 

The first month is the absolute worst. Besides being plagued with nightmares, Sam also watches as an alternate universe is destroyed. While the other Sam and Dean are playing house in their bunker, he can’t help but wonder who that Sam ended up with. Was there a Jessica in that universe? An Eileen? Rowena? He couldn’t dare think too much about the subject. Because then he would want to know more about the alternate universe that sounded so bizarre from their own. A father who loved and cared for them, raised them, provided for them? A mother that was still alive? He could only handle so many emotions at a time. So, he kept quiet until the mission was over and the other two Sam and Dean were back in whatever time they needed to be in. The second month went by just as slow, but it felt as if his wounds were starting to heal. Kind of. He could get through the day without crying, and most of his dreams at night were of a dark, bottomless void. He could handle those. The ones that didn’t have any actual memory attached to them. 

By the time Summer was in full force in Lawrence, Chuck seemed to take a mini-vacation. They were entering week two without a total apocalyptic event of any kind. Billie, Cas, and Dean were skeptical, sensing that Chuck was laying out his plan on a giant map of the world like Hades did in the animated version of _Hercules._ Sam and Jack, on the other hand, enjoyed the time off. Jack was soulless, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy his downtime. He discovered this magical box called a PlayStation one afternoon on eBay and barely left his room since the day it arrived. Sam took to hikes in the woods behind the bunker, needing nature and fresh air to calm his thoughts. When it was nothing but the sound of his boots breaking sticks and the fresh smell of Earth, Sam was close to peace. Of course, he would never fully get there. Peace didn’t exist for someone like him. He was destined for chaos, hell, and whatever else the universe decided was in his cards. 

On a scorching hot day in July, Sam took to the hiking trail he had paved for himself. He made himself a knapsack for the day, water and snacks aplenty. He wanted to spend as much time outside as possible. He would never say it out loud, much less really admit it to himself, that being outside made him feel closer to her. Every once in a while, if the wind blew just right from the East, he could smell her. He knew it was just the Earth and flowers and water nearby, but the combination of it all reminded him of the way her fiery crimson locks smelled like marigolds and how her skin seemed to always have a fresh dew to it. As he sat alone, carving a stick to a point to maybe catch some fish from the freshwater lake for dinner, he felt the first ache in his gut. He had to put the knife down and take several deep breaths. He was finally getting out of this darkness, of the hole...he wasn’t going to go diving back in now. If and when the memories came, good or bad, he would deal with them now. 

“That’s one thing I always admired about you, Samuel.” Her voice, tinny and light on the breeze, skimmed the back of his neck, making his hair stand up on end. He turned quickly, reacting on instinct as he grabbed the knife, pointing it at the trees and brush behind him. He scanned his surroundings, left and right. No one was there...but he had heard her clear as day...as if she was right beside him. Shaking his head, Sam moved to take a small handful of water from the lake and splashed it on his face, trying to bring himself back to whatever dreamland he ran off to. 

“You don’t have to be afraid.” Again, her voice brushed against the back of his neck. He kept his low stance, looking at his wavy reflection in the water. “I live out here now, Sam. Mother Nature and I…” the voice stopped to give off a small bubble of a laugh. “We are basically one.” The wind moved the leaves and brush beside him, and he could have sworn he felt her lithe, delicate fingers against the hairs of his growing beard. He turned again but was only met by the small campsite he had built himself. Again, he shook himself off and focused on the tasks at hand. Finding a fish to cook himself for dinner tonight before returning to the bunker. As much as he wanted to spend a night in the woods, Dean would have a conniption fit, and it wasn’t worth all of the hassle. But Sam knew that something was out here...that _someone_ was out here…and he was going to come back….just to see how much closer he could get. 

_My beating heart belongs to you._ _  
__I walked for miles ‘til I found you_ _  
__I’m here to honor you_ _  
__If I lose everything in the fire_ _  
__I’m sending all my love to you._

Telling Dean that he was spending a night on the hiking trails was just as much of a hassle as he thought it would be. Sam would be vulnerable outside, and he knew that the reception in the woods was damn near worthless. But he needed this. He pleaded with Dean, reasoning that being cooped up inside for nearly three weeks with zero Chuck activity has made him go stir crazy. He argued that nature would make him feel whole again, and would bring back a part of him that had been missing for who knew how long. And he promised that he would dart back if anything, even the smallest bug in the ground, was off or out of place. The only way Dean agreed was if Castiel could pop in on him every few hours. No need for actual visitation, just a way to keep the older brother at peace. Sam agreed but tried to think of several different ways to keep Castiel out of his thoughts. If he was going to accomplish his mission tonight, he needed to be alone...with her. 

The book of spells she had gifted him that fateful night stayed under his bed until he packed his backpack for the night. He hid it between a couple of thick lore books so that way maybe he could block its magic from Cas’ hindsight. The last thing he needed was the Angel informing Dean that Sam had plans with that book. He was going farther out into the woods this night, needing more area to cast the spell he had in mind. It would only last a few hours, twelve at most, but he was going to do anything and everything he could to actually see her again. Not just hear her. She claimed she and Mother Nature were one now….He wanted to see if that rang true. If so, the Earth would recreate her for a short time and he could hold her in his arms once again. Of course, he wasn’t going to get his hopes up. The ingredients he needed were limited and hard to find, let alone finding them out in the wild. If he could make this work, it would honestly be a miracle. One he would thank whatever deity, god, or star he had to. 

The sun was setting by the time Sam made it to the riverside where he planned to set up camp for the night. He came by the afternoon before and cleared out a path for his tent and a fire. Even though he knew the likelihood of someone else hiking around the area was slim, if he was caught by someone who wasn’t Cas or Dean, he wanted his campsite to look normal, like a man out on his own in the wilderness. Not like some possible psycho who was trying to bring back his--what was she exactly?--from the dead. Once his tent was set up and he had a halfway decent fire going, he pulled the elements from his backpack and started setting up a spell space. He used the marigold flowers he found off the water’s edge because they reminded him of her scent. He used a small scrap of fabric he tore from her dress the night they burned her and hoped that he could summon all of his positive memories of her. Unlike the ones that haunt his dreams. 

Once the spell station was set up, Sam gently pulled the spellbook from his backpack, gently caressing his fingers over the cover. She was the last person to touch this book. He remembered her delicate, ivory hands shaking as she handed it to him, cast it into his possession. No one else would be able to summon the magic from it as Sam could. The mere thought of himself being associated with the word _magic_ should have made his stomach churn and have him reared back. But magic was the one thing he truly believed tied them together...Because he could never be sure the feelings he felt for her would ever be matched. Nor was he ever expecting them to be. The Queen was one of a kind, a diamond in the ruff, a possession no one dare try to mess with. But Sam dared. And multiple times, he succeeded. Especially after they both spent more than enough time being tortured and killed by Lucifer over and over and over again. Sam understood this woman on a level he would understand no other, and she felt the same with him. 

That’s why this spell _had_ to work. 

One more night with Rowena was all Sam wanted. And from that one night, he wasn’t sure what he expected. Probably their typical banter, the way she would spit out her Gaelic insults and Sam would simply do his best not to melt before her. The feelings he kept under lock and key and deadbolt would stay down there. For if Sam had one more night with his Queen, he wouldn’t waste it showering her with things she never truly cared for. Instead, he would make her laugh and she would tell him stories of worlds hundreds of years ago. And then the spell would wear off, and Sam would kiss her knuckles in goodbye. That’s all Sam could wish for this night. 

_With every breath that I am worth_ _  
__Here on Earth_ _  
__I’m sending all my love to you_ _  
__So, if you dare to second guess_ _  
__You can rest assure_ _  
__That all my love’s for you._

Moonlight cast an almost eerie glow in the bowl as Sam poured the final ingredients into it, reciting the nearly impossible Latin. The directions informed him to speak from his deepest place of desires, to speak with such emotion that the world around him would shift with it. So, that’s what he did. He watched as the piece of parchment with their names written on it in his blood started to spit and crackle with fire and magic. The orange flame turned blue as his voice grew louder, more passionate. 

_"_ _Sit rursus ut inveniam te, mi amice spiritus_

_una communis amor noster._

_Carpe verba faceret et verum,_

_Totam terræ obstupuerunt._

_Sit aetheres quia sumus adhuc in unum_

_Usque ad sopitos suscitat ignes mori!”_

Feeling the earth shake under the spell, Sam pictured the woman in his mind, as instructed. Of course, his Queen never left his mind. There was a special corner reserved especially for her. Her words of wisdom, her laughter. The way she called him Samuel when she knew his name was _Just Sam_. Wavy, fiery red hair and curves that he would never confess he wanted to mold his hands around. Lithe limbs that have clung to him as images haunted her dreams. Smooth skin that floated across his as she healed battle wounds, but only under the promise that they would never tell Fergus of this. Sam pictured it all, wished for it all, wanted it all. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Samuel.” There was her voice again, but this time it wasn’t floating on the trees. Looking up from his position kneeling at the bowl, Sam found his Queen, Rowena, in the flesh. It didn’t take him but half a second to stand and cross over the bowl, careful not to break any part of the spell for fear of losing her. When he stood in front of her, his fingers twitched at his sides. Looking up at him with the brightest green eyes, Rowena moved her hand to his now fully grown out beard. She made a face as her tiny fingers played with the curls at his chin. 

“I don’t particularly like my men scruffy, Samuel.” Her voice took on that playful edge that only he was allowed to witness. It made his heart nearly leap from his chest. “But I suppose I will let this one slide for now.” Her bright red lips curled into the most deliciously evil smile and it took everything in his willpower not to take her delicate face in his hands and smash his lips to hers. An overwhelming feeling of possessiveness came to him, but he wouldn’t dare act on it. Nothing would ruin this night for him. Not even himself. Clearing his throat, Sam tried to find the millions of words he wished to say to her tonight. Instead, he was left speechless and nearly dumbfounded. 

“It worked,” His voice sounded breathless like it took every last push from his lungs to get the two small words out from between his lips. 

“Well, of course, it worked, Samuel. I wrote it.” Rowena couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her lips. “And here I thought you had all of the faith in the world in me.” She continued to tease. She watched as he caught on to what she said. 

“You...you wrote that spell?” Sam inched forward, talking with his hands to not actually reach out and touch her. 

“Of course, dearie. I knew you would find it one of these days. It isn’t my best work, as it obviously isn’t permanent. But it will buy us the night, right?” The witch carried herself with a sense of pride and Sam felt the same emotion swell in his chest. His thoughts ran in one thousand different directions, but the main focus was her. Everything about him _craved_ everything about her. 

“S-sit with me?” Unsure of when his nerves came into play, Sam pointed to the blanket he had set up near the fire. The blanket would be enough to keep her warm should she catch the evening chill. Rowena smiled again, the dazzling smile that left Sam breathless, as she extended her hand to him, allowing him to lead her the small distance. 

Settling back down with Rowena was almost too easy. After his general nervousness passed, he poured her a glass of wine and caught her up on all of the events as of late. How Chuck seemed to be lying low at the moment, how Jack was completely caught up in modern technologies and how Dean and Cas--

“Oh, for the love of Alice, tell me those two share a bed nowadays.” The witch exclaimed. Taken back by the statement, Sam stumbled over his words. 

“And it has been so--I-I’m sorry. What did you say?” Twisting his head to the side, he couldn’t stop the smile that moved over his lips. “Did you just ask if my brother, Dean Winchester, was sharing a bed with Castiel, an Angel of the Lord?” A thick eyebrow shot up with his quizzical statement. The woman stood her ground. 

“You heard what I said.” She didn’t step back, didn’t falter. She liked a challenge just as much as Sam did. There was nothing around them but the crackling of the fire and the sound of crickets singing the song of the night before Sam let out the loudest, almost booming laugh, that Rowena had ever heard. 

“Even for someone who's been gone so long, you’re not slow on anything, are you?” He asked. Without a word, the Witch just winked at Sam, shimmying her shoulders a bit. That small movement ripped Sam from the lighthearted moment. The movement caused the light silk of her dress straps to fall just over her shoulder, exposing creamy, pale skin to the nearly identical moonlight. Swallowing thickly, Sam blinked multiple times to try and change the direction of his eyesight. But nothing was working. A heaviness settled in his chest, but it wasn’t unpleasant or unwelcome. The night was shifting and Sam was left with the choice to follow it, or attempt to reign himself in. And he wasn’t sure he had that much self-control left. 

_My beating heart belongs to you_ _  
__I walked for miles ‘til I found you_ _  
__I’m here to honor you_ _  
__If I lose everything in the fire_ _  
__I’m sending all my love to you._

Rowena sensed Castiel before the Angel had a clear idea where Sam was hiding in the woods. Of course, his timing was always impeccable. If he got even a small sniff of her being here, the elder Winchester would be alerted like a guard dog and their evening would be over. That was NOT in the plan for this evening. 

“The Angel is on his way. We have to hide me.” Her voice was low so only Sam could hear her. She felt that their location had been determined and they were running out of time. With a wave of her hand, she hid the spell bowl and the artifacts around it, making it look like Sam had set up a station for deboning a fish for dinner. He wasted no time escorting her into his tent, and she made herself as still as possible, hoping she was curled enough to look like another blanket if the fire were to cast light in her direction. 

Moving back to his spot, Sam cracked open a fresh beer and pulled his legs up, resting his elbows on his knees. If he seemed casual enough, it was likely that Cas wouldn’t attempt to peek in on his thoughts and figure out what was really going on. Adding a few more sticks to the fire, Sam watched as it crackled to life with new wood and wondered if that was what his brief time with Rowena would do to him. Would it light his fire, so to speak? Make the small amount of light still left in him shine though enough to get through these nearly impossible times? 

“The times aren’t impossible, Sam.” Cas’ deep timbre pulled Sam from his artificial thoughts. “You, your brother, Jack, Billie, myself, and all of our allies are working tirelessly to fight whatever Chuck has planned.” 

“I came out here to not think about that, Cas.” Sam gave his voice a bit of an edge, almost to try and threaten the Angel away. 

“Dean wants to know if you need anything. Food, water….a Busty Asian Beauties magazine.” Sam shook his head as Cas relayed the words almost in Dean’s exact tone. 

“I came out here to clear my head, Cas. I would like to be left alone for a bit. I need time to think and come to terms with it all.” What Sam spoke wasn’t a lie. He was coming to terms with a lot of things tonight. Coming to terms with the fact that he loved a witch, a dead woman, a person who was supposed to be his sworn enemy. Coming to terms with the fact that Rowena wrote spells in that book for him to read and use and wondered what other little devilish tricks she had up her-

“Rowena?” Cas’ voice brought Sam back to reality. 

“What?” Sam asked, picking his shoulders up a bit to make himself a bit more threatening. 

“Your thoughts. They’re still centered on Rowena. Dean….Dean and I thought you would be over her by now.” Castiel tried to keep his voice light, but could easily feel the anger and annoyance in Sam’s presence. 

“Over here?” Sam asked, but didn’t move from his spot. “You thought I would be over the fact that I had to kill an ally? A friend?” He turned his upper body slightly, and the warning of emotions made Castiel step back. 

“I can see I’ve struck a nerve.” The Angel was getting good on his metaphors. Usually, this would be a proud moment that Sam would celebrate with a high five, but he kept his face and emotions tight. There was no way Castiel was getting any closer than he had already stepped. “Come home if anything goes wrong, Sam.” The Angel’s tone turned sympathetic as he turned to walk, or more than likely fly, away. “I’m just a prayer away.” 

The wind and leaves whirled around Sam as the Angel made his exit. As soon as he thought the coast was clear, Sam moved back to the tent. He peeled the zipper down a bit and peeked his head inside. Rowena was wrapped in one of his flannel shirts...and only one of his flannel shirts. 

“Care to join me, Samuel?”

\--------------

_When the world was upside down_

_I could take all the time I had_

_But I’m not gonna wait_

_When a moment can vanish so fast_ _  
__Cause every kiss is a kiss you can never get back_

The evening air around him turned heavy the moment she asked if he cared to join him. His jacket seemed too much for the cool night around him, his throat became thick and it seemed that the voices in his head finally shut up. He could breathe but couldn’t catch his breath all at the same time. Scratching the back of his head, Sam took two spare seconds to reign in his thoughts before sliding the zipper down far enough for him to get in. If there was anyone else in these woods, which was very unlikely, he didn’t want to dare someone seeing the precious gift that lay practically unwrapped in front of him. As soon as it was zipped shut, Sam fell to his knees. 

“Rowena,” He was breathless, seeing her creamy, silky skin peeking out from the barely buttoned buttons on one of his favorite flannels. He kept reminding himself that tonight wasn’t supposed to be about this. It wasn’t supposed to be about their physical connection. Or the fact that, when Sam saw her splayed out the way she was, his heart skipped multiple beats. He loved this woman, this witch, this Queen. As much as he wanted to push those feelings down and shove them aside for the day when she wasn’t here anymore and face them then….He couldn’t. 

Sensing the shift in the air, in the world around them, even in the universe, Rowena sat up but didn’t care about the fact that the flannel moved around her thighs. With a simple wave of her fingers, she could have had Sam naked for her taking...but that wasn’t what she wanted right at the moment. Instead, she cleared away his thoughts, his doubts, she let him see the side of himself that he hid around her, around his brother and his friends. The side of himself that he even barely felt. 

“Rowena, what are you-” 

“You’re allowed to have emotions, Samuel. You’re allowed to feel things. You’ve spent your entire life hiding behind stone faces and the words of a deadbeat father. You can feel here, Sam.” Getting up on her knees, Rowena moved to hold her hands in Sam’s. For only the fourth or fifth time since she had known the lad, she watched as a single tear fell down his perfect cheek. It made the organ inside of her chest that most people call a heart constrict. It was her chance to feel emotions, too, she realized. Emotions that wouldn’t get her killed...or worse. Standing up ever so slowly, Rowena took her time slipping her hands under Sam’s jacket and crushing the fabric down his arms. Inch by inch, article by article, until both of them, were naked, Rowena and Sam tore off clothes. While the fabric was real, it felt as if they were actually ripping apart layers of each other. Layers that hid secrets and pasts and stories, all of them were being discarded, tossed aside for one night. Their one night. 

Going by the glow of the still-burning embers outside, Sam found the delicate curves of Rowena’s body. He found scars and wounds, and even though he knew that their time was limited, he was going to tell every single doubt in his mind where to shove it. He spent his time with Rowena the way that any man would spend his last seconds with the woman he loved, worshipping her like the Queen she truly was. Eventually, the spell would wear off from them not feeding the spell bowl, but Sam wasn’t one hundred percent sure he cared too much at this point. Instead, when he had the chance to enter her and complete himself in a whole new way, he did. 

For the first time in his life, sex wasn’t just about the end result. This action, this vow that he was completing with Rowena was about more than just physical pleasure. Every push he gave, she pulled right back. Her ruby red nails left equally as red scratch marks down his back and across his shoulders, her lips carved delicious, deep, colorful bruises that he would surely press on to keep there for a while. As a way to remember her. He filled her, keeping her under him, pressing his pelvis into hers as fast but as thorough as possible. She wasn’t going to leave this world again without feeling him in, on, and around every single inch of her. If she went back to whatever hell the universe had for her, he was sure that place couldn’t take away what he was giving her. 

Rowena gave just as much to Sam as he gave to her. She milked him, pulling out every single particle that he had to offer. Every last drop of his seed and energy went into her and her willing body was accepting, wanting, even. Multiple times throughout the night, over and over and over again, Rowena took Sam on a journey he never could have imagined with anyone else. It was beautiful and breathtaking. A memory that both would cherish for the rest of their days. Wherever their souls would rest, they would always be connected in this way, and for that, they were both eternally grateful. 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that her body, warm and soft and everything Sam knew it would be, would be gone by the morning. But it did. It shocked his body into waking up and checking its surroundings. His hand reached for a pistol by habit but was only met by his field knife and a piece of paper. Opening his eyes, Sam looked as his fingers gripped the fine sheet and brought it up to his face, rubbing his eyes clear with the other hand. With hands he didn’t realize were shaking, he opened her note, knowing who it was already from. 

  
  
  


_Lift me up in your arms_

_If you told me that is where heaven is_ _  
__Well, you’d be right_

_I’ve been waiting forever for this_ _  
__This is the night_

Darkness surrounds her and she knows the second she opens her eyes that she is back in the place where she wished she never returned. Her skin feels cold like an icy hand has its grip on her and she can’t move. A feeling she was getting used to turned into something she loathed more and more with each passing second. In a way, Rowena wanted to curse Sam for bringing her back to Earthside for that short period of time, but she knew in her heart of hearts that she could never do such a thing. If there was one person up--down?--there who understood her and everything she stood for, it was Sam Winchester. Her Samuel. Feeling like she was chained against the icy wall with those icy grips, Rowena couldn’t stop the single tear that fell from her eyes. Everything about Sam bringing her back and being with her last night was beautiful, and she wasn’t sure beauty was something she would ever truly experience again. After joining her first coven at such a young and tender age, beauty was something that was rarely seen for what it truly was. 

Beauty in a witch's world was a vile and evil thing. Witches craved beauty and wanted to remain beautiful for as long as possible. They would create potions and spells and incantations, all to either take beauty away from a person or to create a fake sense of it. Either way, a witch usually never understood the true meaning of the word. But last night...being with Samuel, her Sam, Rowena truly felt beautiful for the first time in her centuries of life. Memories flashed across her mind of her father, her first husband, of Fergus, all of them telling her that she had beauty, but none of their words held as much truth as Sam’s did last night. Wrapped around him in every sense of the word, Rowena felt the closest thing to human she had felt since she became nearly immortal. She felt true beauty and true desire, passion, and even love. Love was another thing that witches never understood the true meaning of. But Rowena did. She thought she knew the meaning a long time ago, but she was wrong. Now, being held in the grips of the Darkness, Rowena knew what it was like to be loved. And to love someone else besides herself. 

That’s what scared her the most. 

After birthing Fergus, many people told her she would know a new type of love. “A love only a mother can feel” is what many of her friends told her. Of course, most of her friends were human and would never understand that dark power that she possessed. Did she love her son, yes. Did she miss him with every single living breath she had after she found how that he, much like she ended up doing, sacrificed himself for those damned Winchesters? Yes. Rowena didn’t realize she could know pain like that. But the type of love that she was feeling right now, the type of love that becomes a long, lonely emptiness when the other person isn’t there? No. Rowena never knew that love before Sam came along. When she was living through the nightmares of Lucifer in Castiel’s vessel snapping her neck, when she could still hear the bastard's vile laughter in the back of her head, Sam was there for her. Everything made sense when it was her and Sam. A sob lurched her forward, but the icy grasp pulled her right back against the chilly wall, holding her against her fate. One too many hex bags, one too many cursed objects and this is what happens. An icy, dark grave. A place where no one would find her, no matter how hard they tried. Only people like her, celestial beings, and maybe a select few mortals that Hell didn’t want would stand in her place. Sam could never cross into this place. Even though he has evil blood in him, there isn’t a damn bone in that perfect body that is as evil as she has been. 

Which is why it was so easy to leave her most prized spellbook in his hands. It’s the same reason why she added spells into the back of the book...In case her fate ever came. Did she think she would ever come to her end for the Winchesters? Oh, no, no, no. And she didn’t sacrifice herself for Dean as much as she did Sam. The world couldn’t go on without him, and he wouldn’t go on without Dean. To love Sam is to love Dean in some shape. As much as the two of them hated each other, they respected each other. Which was why she did what she did. It was also the reason why she knew Sam had to be the one to kill her. Those endings in love stories about true love's kiss were the exact same concept. If someone else were to attempt to kill her, it wouldn’t work. It had to be someone she loved….and someone that loved her in return. 

“You’re pathetic,” The echo of the Darkness’ voice climbs the walls of her icy chamber to haunt her. Every night, it would come to its prisoners and remind them of what got them here in the first place. “Pining over that damn Winchester boy like you’re some princess in a fairytale.” The voice turns into a watery chuckle and Rowena tries to turn her head away from the gargle of sound. More tears, almost scorching hot against her cold skin, fall. 

“You cry for him. A witch. A powerful witch. Quite possibly one of the most powerful witches the world has ever seen, and you cry for some mortal. Oh, but not just any mortal, no. It has to be a Winchester. I remember when you were on our side, Rowena.” The voice circles her as if it was actually embodied. “When you fought for the same thing I did.” The icy grip pulls her tighter and she feels it start to burn through her skin. 

“We wanted to rule the world. Let the bad guys have their fun. But no. Oh, no. Mary Winchester had to go and make a deal with Azazel and the rest, as they say, is history. For you to be in love with the one rat she made the deal for….That’s just blasphemous.” Another wave of ice hit Rowena and she couldn’t breathe. 

“W-why do you torture me now, Darkness?” Her teeth chattered when she talked. 

“Because you escaped my grip, girl. And now you have to pay for your sins. Besides, don’t you remember when torturing was fun? When you would tie a man to a table with your sisters and cut into his body, marking his skin with your sigils?” Another watery laugh escaped the Darkness, but this time it felt as if Rowena was the one getting cut. She gasped and sighed, closing her eyes and admitting defeat. 

“Oh, Rowena, child. How you think you can just give up like that.” At the end of the sentence, another sharp, cold pain coursed through the witch, almost as if someone was feeding ice straight into her veins. “You’re going to feel the pain, Rowena. You’re going to feel the pain that you have caused me. Escaping me, eluding me, making me wonder where my most precious witch had run off to.” What felt like a cold, sharp nail gently scratched across the woman’s cheek. “You don’t get to run off for the night without coming home and facing the punishment.” The icy nail made its move into her cheek, making sure to leave a long scar in its wake. Unsure if any of this was “real”, Rowena closed her eyes to fight against the pain. 

“You can’t fight me, Rowena. You belong to me now, remember?” 

_When the answer to all my dreams_

_Is as close as a touch away_ _  
__Why am I here_ _  
__Holding back what I’m tryin’ to say?_

Time was irrelevant in the Darkness. Because it was literally dark all of the time, and because they were basically outside of the time-space continuum, there was no real sense of time. Rowena couldn’t process if hours, days, months, or millennia have gone by. But she could sense the pulls of a spell. Which meant Sam was working towards trying one of the more challenging spells she had written. It was unclear if it would work the way both of them would want it to because of the Darkness’s tight hold on Rowena. Ever since she came back from the first resurrection spell, the Darkness had made sure to remind her who she belonged to. Where she belonged. But, Rowena didn’t belong to a single person, a part of her might, but her whole being was hers and hers alone. That was the way it had always been and that was the way it was going to stay. The icy grips and chains changed to different torture textures and temperatures daily. Today, she felt as if scorching hot metal was bearing its wicked mark into her wrists. The undercurrent of magic she felt under her belly was the only thing keeping her sane and cognizant. Sam was reaching out to her, for her. 

After one particularly terrible and humiliating torture from the Darkness, Rowena was certain she would start praying for Death soon. The mere thought of her actually attempting to reach out to a Horsemen during this time was insane, as she knew that they were dead. But anything would bring sweet relief from the hell she experienced day in and day out. Feeling like she was hanging against a cold, damp chamber wall, Rowena listened to that sickening sound of the Darkness’s watery laughter. It always sounded like there was something stuck just in the back of the throat. It made Rowena want to punch it in the throat to see if anything ever came up. Of course, the Darkness only took an embodiment when it was feeling particularly vile and cruel. Time and time again the Darkness would take on Sam’s likeness. But the voice was the thing that kept Rowena current. There was no disguising the watery gurgle. Even if her Samuel were to be successful at one of the harder incantations, the memory of that voice would be added to the album of repeated chorus’ in her head. 

The undercurrent of magic still hummed in her stomach, in her veins. It would grow weak every now and again, and then it would flare and she would feel as if she could actually take down and overpower the Darkness. That was a false sense of hope. She knew the only reason why she felt the current was because Sam was connected to her. Even miles, eons, apart, they were always connected. She wondered if the nightmares that she lived currently would haunt his dreams, but she immediately pulled that thought back. Samuel had literally been laid out across Satan’s wiping station and was burned, beaten, and bruised over and over again. He endured enough damage from Lucifer’s hand, she wouldn’t want him to experience the vast array the Darkness brought to her. He was reaching for her, using his connection to her and magic as a way to communicate, in a way. Letting her know that he was tirelessly working day in and out to bring her back to him. It was heartwarming. It was her one string of hope in her time of pure agony and pain. 

But, the mere thought of what trouble would come if Sam were successful and she was to escape the grips of the Darkness’ hands….it made her weak. What hell would be unleashed? With God and his sister now playing for opposite teams, would Chuck befriend the Darkness? Or, would Amara summon her power back and absorb every single soulless creature that inhabits it? Could Rowena see herself locked in someone else’s thoughts, unable to protect and fight with the man she loves? The sounds of chains rattled as she fell to her knees and she shocked herself when her hands caught herself flat against the dark floor. From what she remembered, she was always suspended on chains for the Darkness. On display like Christ and the other criminals of the time. Reaching around, she felt the solidness again. Unable to stop it, a sob of relief left her throat as she pushed herself to what she assumed was a standing position. Bare feet cold against what she assumed were wet, stone floors like a medieval castle, Rowena took tentative steps. 

What had brought her freedom, she wasn’t sure, but once she was stable on her feet, she ran. Having no real sense of direction, she ran until something tripped her. Catching herself, Rowena felt what appeared to be a doorknob and opened it. Brightness stunned her for a few split seconds before her eyes adjusted and she saw what was in front of her. 

“Castiel?” Her accent seemed thicker from lack of usage and her throat was parched. The Angel wielded an angel blade and carried a wild, but somehow controlled, look in his eye.

“We need you, Rowena.” His gravelly, deep voice sent a shock of warning through her. 

“I’ve done all I can do, Castiel. How could you possibly--”

“Chuck wants the Grand Finale, Rowena. He’s about to pull his biggest stunt yet.” 

“And what would that be, hmm?” The red-headed witch crossed her arms, unable to see how any of this situation could be worse than what it already was. Castiel cleared his throat before carefully meeting Rowena’s gaze. 

“He’s bringing back Lucifer.” 

_Lift me up in your arms_ _  
__If you told me that is here Heaven is_ _  
__Well, you’d be right._ _  
__Hold me close to your heart_ _  
__I will go with you to the ends of the Earth_ _  
__And we’ll fly_

_I’ve been waiting forever for this_ _  
__This is the night_


End file.
